


Affirmation

by fall_into_life



Series: Rising At The Fall [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, mild internalized transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fall_into_life/pseuds/fall_into_life
Summary: Blake/Yang smut set after the Fall. No real Enter The Dragon knowledge necessary.





	Affirmation

Blake doesn't intend to seduce Yang.

The intent is to kiss Yang goodnight, the same way they've done since they first started dating. It should just be casual affection, as it has been since they were both awake enough to restart it after Mistral. They're both still exhausted, with twinges of pain in unexpected places. Sex shouldn't be an option, really.

And yet, when their lips meet they both pause. Yang's hand - the metal one, because tonight is a night for miracles - comes to curl around the side of Blake's neck. Blake's book tumbles to the floor.

There's a second kiss, a third, and before Blake knows it, clothes get shoved aside and Yang's on her back with Blake's hands pining hers down.

"Fuck, baby, please," Yang's voice rumbles out, still cracked and raspy. Blake hushes her, half out of some vague desire to be discreet, half because it still hurts Yang to talk.

Blake's thigh slips between Yang's, pressing upward and inward. Yang's mouth opens in a motion that should have a moan to go with it, but just produces a rush of air. Her legs fall open, head tilted back, and that's a clear invitation for Blake's mouth on her neck.

Yang pants against Blake's skin, hips rutting into the thigh pushing against her. She manages something that sounds like a demand for a kiss, and Blake leans up to slot their mouths together.

Gods, they're alive. They lived through so much trying to kill them, through so many close calls. They're alive and Blake gets to have this, gets to have Yang's skin and breath and the taste of her mouth. Things that never should have been allowed, not after the Fall of Beacon and Blake running away from Yang, but were given nonetheless and Blake is too selfish to let them go without a fight.

Yang's motions become stuttered, off-rhythm and desperate, and Blake sits halfway up to watch. Yang meets Blake's eyes without hesitation, letting herself be exposed as if it isn't a big deal, like Blake couldn't rip her throat out or break her heart. Her back arches, fingers squeezing Blake's - and she's careful even at the height of orgasm, so careful with her prosthetic that could break bone as easy as breathing - and her eyelids flutter but she keeps them open. She knows Blake wants to watch her this way. Blake has never told her.

Some distant part of Blake's mind recalls that Ruby is asleep on the other side of one wall, and Weiss is asleep on the other. Then Yang wriggles free of the hold, and leans up for a kiss that makes Blake forget other people exist at all.

"What do you want, baby?" Yang whispers, more breath than sound. She knows, too, that Blake can't always let Yang inside, that different acts have different connotations and sometimes Blake can handle one and not another. Blake hasn't told her that, either. Yang may not have even thought of it that way, but she always telegraphs her movements, or asks what Blake wants. She's found the places that Blake always wants touched, and seeks confirmation about the others. Sometimes, Blake can't breathe for loving her.

"Will it hurt, if you...?" Blake raises a hand to trace the outline of Yang's lips.

Yang huffs out a laugh, dipping her head to kiss Blake's fingers. "I'll stop if it does."

That's one of the things Blake has to just take on trust, that Yang will say something if she's hurt or uncomfortable, and it will mean what she says. Yang isn't always good with words, but she doesn't lie. Blake is slowly accepting this as truth.

Yang pushes at Blake's yukata, with a smile that says _let's get this off of you_ , and Blake willingly sheds the last pieces of clothing. It doesn't take long until they're both bare, skin to skin and so close Blake doesn't want to separate from her, not even in the name of pleasure.

Gentle fingers move along Blake's chest, calloused skin feeling so good, gods, so good. They've both been recovering and probably shouldn't be having sex even now, but Blake's heart and body still sing that it's been too long. This is necessary, this reconnection and touch, and Blake pushes into Yang's hand, biting back a whine.

Yang eases Blake backwards, moving downward and biting at ribs and hips as she goes. She parts Blake's legs and settles between them, mouth going to work.

It's so good, such a relief, so critical and necessary and all the other words that mean Blake is helplessly in love with her. It isn't about pleasure, or orgasm, it's about intimacy and connection, about trusting someone with vulnerability and having that trust returned. Thoughts try to spring up about how Yang wouldn't want Blake if she truly understood what Blake _meant_ by not being male or female, but they're weak and easily drowned under the tide of love that even Blake's cynicism can't deny. Blake's told her. Yang is still here.

When Blake orgasms, it's as if something inside has been strung tight all this time and only now is it loosening. Intellectually Blake knows that it's been almost a month since they had sex, and the overall lack of contact has probably been straining their pair bond. Emotionally it's a rush of both conflicting and complementary feelings that have Blake pulling Yang upwards and claiming skin, pushing in close and only then feeling like breathing is possible.

Yang rolls them over, wraps her legs around Blake's hips and sighs contentedly when Blake settles down onto her. She needed this too, Blake realizes.

Hands wander, aimlessly seeking skin, smoothing along arms and tracing scars both old and new. Yang doesn't touch the newest of them, the long, silvery scar that cuts from cheekbone down to collar. Blake touches Yang's upper right arm but doesn't venture near the join of flesh to metal. It shouldn't be possible, this easy acceptance of what hurts are too fresh to jostle.

Yang mouths 'I love you' against Blake's skin, and Blake whispers it right back.

(They made it. They're alive.)


End file.
